The Answer is No

If Mycroft had had his way Sherlock and John would have been given a knighthood and Molly and Mary would have been granted the title of dame, Dame Molly Hooper and Dame Mary Watson. But Sherlock had been insistent. The answer was a most definitive, no.

Sherlock and Molly had returned to Baker Street. Molly had never been so happy to crush Toby to her chest. Although he was purring, he was also struggling to get out of her tight grasp.

"All right. All right." She put him down and he hurried over to his food bowl, mewling at her. After she had fed him she walked into the bedroom to unpack. Sherlock had been called on to a case that Lestrade had been unable to solve. "Probably because he has Anderson with him!" Sherlock had muttered under his breath. He gave her a quick kiss goodbye, promising her that he would make it up to her.

Hmmm … and what about that other thing you had agreed to? You better not have bloody deleted it!

After finishing unpacking, both her suitcase and his, (she knew that he would never unpack it himself and that Mrs. Hudson would probably end up doing it), she returned to the kitchen to figure out what to make for dinner. She would most definitely have to do some food shopping. For now she would just have to settle with pasta and sauce.

By the time Sherlock returned, the flat was willed with the pungent smell of basil and tomatoes. Molly had just poured out the pasta and was shaking the sieve over sink. He stood in the doorway of the kitchen for a moment, she entirely oblivious to his presence. This was a sight he would never grow bored with; Molly Hooper in his flat, their flat. Although he did rather prefer the sight of in his bed, naked amongst the sheets, more than anything. Just as Molly put the pasta into the waiting bowl he stepped into the kitchen.

"Oh!" Her face lit up with a bright smile, "You're back."

With a few more steps he was directly in front of her, "Yes."

"Good case?"

"Barely a pathetic five."

She let out a soft giggle which turned into a sound of pleasure as he slipped his arm around her waist before claiming her mouth with his own.

"Hungry?"

"Famished." He leaned forward, "For you." Just as he was about to kiss her again she ducked out of his grasp.

"Ah! Ah! Dinner first, that later." She told him this with a cheeky grin.

He let his arms drop to his sides, "What did you make? It smells delicious."

The next day Molly returned to work. It felt good to be back in the morgue and her lab. She had missed it. Not many people would look forward to cutting up dead bodies, but she did. Even if it meant that she repeatedly had flashes of the image of Brook lying dead before her, two knives in his throat; her handiwork.

Molly stepped back from the body she had been working on, noting how her hands were shaking. She took a few deep, calming breaths. The sound of the doors swinging open forced her to put on a brave face; a smile that didn't reach her eyes. It might be Mike Stamford, or possibly DI Lestrade. She ripped her gloves off as she spun around. It was neither one of them. It was Sherlock. A great wave of relief washed over her at the sight of him. He instantly deduced that something was wrong and rushed towards her. She fell into his arms, grasping at the front of his coat, breathing in the scent of him.

He smelled like cold air and cigarettes, the bastard had nicked a smoke! But at the moment she really didn't care. She just wanted him to hold her.

I don't think you'll ever realize how much I love you!

Sherlock had pressed his lips to the top of her head, his hand drawing lazy circles on her back. Neither one of them spoke for nearly five minutes. He was the first one to break the silence.

"It will pass eventually. It just takes … time. Time and … distraction." He had started to kiss down the side of her face, moving to her jaw line. She began to laugh, tipping her head to the side to give him greater access. He growled slightly into her skin before stepping away, but still holding her close.

"How come you are here? A case? Experiment?"

He shook his head, "Nope to both. I just wanted to see you."

She smiled up at him, "You saw me not even less than an hour ago!"

"So?"

She shook her head, "I need to get back to work."

"When do you get off?"

"Not for another six hours, why?"

"I thought I'd make dinner tonight."

Molly raised her eyebrow, looking at him in disbelief, "You? Cook dinner? You can cook?"

He shrugged, "I'm a graduate chemist! How hard can it be?"

She rolled her eyes, "Well, have fun with that! Try not to burn the flat down or Mrs. Hudson will have your head!"

"Oh ye of little faith."

She snorted back a laugh, "I have the Chinese take-away from down the street on speed dial. Text me if you need me to stop there on my way home." She pressed a kiss to his lips before stepping out of his embrace.

Six hours later and she had not received a text from him. Her fingers twitched to call for take-away but she held herself back. If Sherlock wanted to cook, then he was going to cook. She cleaned up her things, slipped out of her lab coat and got a cab home.

Please let the building still be standing!

Molly let out a breath of relief as the cab pulled up outside of 221. There were no visual sighs of smoke coming from the upstairs flat. She hurried inside, pausing for a moment as a most delicious smell welcomed her.

He didn't! He did?

She made her way up the stairs, knowing that he would have heard her come in and begin to wonder why she was taking so long to come up. The smell only grew stronger as she opened the door of 221B. He greeted her just as she walked in, helping her off with her coat. She unwound her multi-coloured scarf.

"Hello."

"Hi."

They kissed for a few moments.

"What did you make? It smells divine!"

He led her towards the kitchen, "Shepherd's pie. Your favourite."

"Shepherd's pie? How did you know that was my favourite?" She stopped him just as he opened his mouth, "Don't answer that, of course, you deduced it!"

The pie was sitting on a cooling rack. Molly stared at it in awe; it looked like it had come straight from a restaurant. But clearly it didn't, it was in one of her dishes and it even had little bits of burnt potato on the side. A clear sign that Sherlock had in fact made this himself. She turned and looked at him.

"This looks fantastic! You did this all yourself? No one helped you?"

"No. Of course not!"

"Not Mrs. Hudson?"

"No."

"Or John?"

"NO!"

He let out an annoyed huff, "Why do you think me incapable of cooking?"

She stepped towards him, slipping her hands over his waist, "I don't think you're incapable. You've just surprised me, that's all. I like surprises."

He smiled down at her, "Hungry?"

"Mmmhmmm."

After dishing themselves each a serving they settled down at the table. Sherlock moved her chair closer to his. He silently watched her as she took the first bite.

"Well?"

She chewed for a moment, then swallowed, "Sherlock, this is the best Shepherd's pie I have ever eaten!"

He let out an enormous, relieved sigh, "I'm glad to know. I haven't exactly cooked anything in ages." He took a few bites, a pleased smile on his face. They ate silently for a little while.

"What recipe did you use?" Molly asked as she stood, "Seconds?"

He nodded and she took up both their plates.

"I uhh …"

"You did use a recipe, didn't you? Or did you just look at a photo of Shepherd's pie and deduce the ingredients?" She dished another serving on to their plates and returned to the table. He didn't eat anymore, just moved the food about on his plate with his fork.

"Sherlock?"

"All right fine, I followed a video on YouTube!"

Molly let out a soft chuckle, "Why couldn't you have just told me that in the first place? There's nothing wrong with that! I've used YouTube loads of times to learn things! Sometimes it just helps to have visual stimuli instead of words on paper."

Sherlock moved to cradle her face in his hands and kissed her, "Thank you."

She leaned in to him, "No, thank you! This was wonderful." She kissed him again. He pulled her onto his lap, causing her to straddle him as he deepened the kiss.

"It's going to get cold!" Molly protested.

"Suddenly I am not hungry for food anymore." He replied before he stood up from the chair, wrapping her legs about his waist.

They continued to kiss as he moved them towards the bedroom. She let out a soft moan that was very nearly his undoing as they collapsed onto the bed, his full weight almost entirely on her. They didn't bother to fully remove their clothing, too desperate, too hungry for each other.

I love how passionate you are!

This was Molly's last legible thought, as Sherlock's movements and ministrations quickly clouded her mind. All she could focus on was the pleasure he was giving her.

The only sounds in the room were their heavy panting, when she could at last think a bit more clearly. She slipped her body up over his, after they had removed themselves of their clothes. He was lying on his back, his face flushed from the exertion, curls clinging to his forehead. Her stomach was pressed against his, her breasts upon his chest. His hands came up to rest on her hips, she hovered her face over his, their eyes meeting. She could feel his soft, warm breath against her cheek. Bringing up one of her hands she smoothed back his damp curls before slipping her fingers down his temple, to along his cheekbone.

"I love you."

She felt his voice rumble in his chest, the vibrations sending sparks through her veins, as he answered her, "I love you too."

Silence filled the room, both taking the time to let the realization sink in of what had just taken place. Leaning forward she gave him a long, drawn out kiss. One of his hands trailed up her back, directly along her spinal column, stopping when it came to the back of her head. They didn't part until they were desperate for air.

"I confessed my love for you, once before, but you didn't say you loved me back."

She hid her face in his neck, "I know. I didn't want to frighten you."

His chest rumbled again, but this time with laughter, "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it."

He slipped his hands down to her head, cradling her face, forcing her to pick her head up and look at him, "I did mean it. I do mean it."

She kissed him again.

The next morning she was woken up by the sound of Sherlock moving about the room.

"Mmmmffff … what are you doing?" She peered out at him through her mess of hair. He was completely naked, standing in front of a suitcase. I really do love that arse of his! He spun about. The front isn't too bad either. She was certain she was blushing.

"Good, you're awake." He stepped over to her, leaning down to give her a kiss, "You need to pack."

She had just been in the act of pulling him down onto the bed with her, but stopped with her hand mid-air.

"Pack? What do you mean, pack? I just unpacked a few days ago!"

He scoffed, returning to the suitcase, "I know, but you need to pack again. We are going somewhere."

"Somewhere?"

"Yes! Now stop repeating everything I say. Be sure to bring clothes for warm weather."

She narrowed her eyes at him but decided it was useless to pepper him with questions, knowing all too well that the end result would be him getting annoyed. So, she packed.

He wouldn't tell her where he was taking her. Not giving a single hint as they boarded the plane that Mycroft had procured for their own use. Settling down into their seats Sherlock gave her a chaste kiss before a stewardess brought them each a glass of champagne. Molly shook her head as he kissed her again, this time a bit more deeply, before leaning back into his seat with a satisfied smile on his face.

The man has always liked a good mystery.

It wasn't until her toes were buried in the pure white sand, her eyes taking in the crystalline blue of the ocean before her, that it all became very real. Sherlock had made good of his promise to her; he had taken her somewhere tropical and warm; Tahiti.

He had changed out of his usual dark attire, and was now wearing a pair of beige linen pants and a white button up shirt. Oh. Oh my. I thought that nothing but a tight cut suit would ever look so delicious on him, but damn, this is a good look. She was determined though that he would not be wearing these clothes for much longer. But for the moment she only wanted to rush to the waters edge and feel it lapping at her feet.

The area of the island that they were on was remote. A simple bungalow filled with anything they may ever need. She wasn't entirely certain how long Sherlock would manage to stay here until he became bored, so she was willing to enjoy every possible minute.

She let out a loud shriek as he put his arms about her from behind, lifting her slightly up off of her feet as he kissed her shoulder. The water splashed up onto their legs as she leaned back into him, humming happily.

"Thank you." She turned her head so that it met his, "Put me down so that I can thank you properly."

He did, letting her drop to the soft sand; she quickly spun about and kissed him deeply. He lowered her to her knees and was about to press her down onto her back, but she was too quick for him. Before he knew it she had him pinned. He chuckled into her mouth as the warm water washed over their lower bodies. Just as their kiss grew more heated he gently pushed her away.

"I don't think having sex in the sand would be too comfortable."

She rolled her eyes but allowed him to move her onto her back before helping her to her feet; he clasped his hand in hers as they moved towards the bungalow.

"Perhaps we can try that later, with a blanket? I think it would be nice, so out in the open. No one else is around. I'd like to see you like that, your skin glowing in the sun."

Sherlock shook his head, "More like burning in the sun, we'll turn bright red as lobsters, you and I with our pale English skin."

Mmmm … not exactly a sexy sight.

"How about an umbrella?"

He chuckled again, "You're incorrigible."

"So are you."

They had reached the bungalow. She wanted to explore it, get to know its every crook and cranny, but the last kiss he had ended with had left her wanting more. Much more. Clearly reading her thoughts he pulled her to him, continuing that very kiss with fervor. She sighed into his mouth as he led her towards the bedroom, where a large, spacious bed awaited them. They peeled off each other's clothing, it clinging to their bodies, wet from the ocean. Falling onto the bed she dragged him down with her. He laughed at her desperation, but it quickly turned into a groan as she worked her expert hands on him.

Later the sound of the waves crashing on the shore echoed throughout the bungalow. The sea air drifted in on the breeze as the curtains floated about, the windows left wide open. The only light was coming from the moon, filling the room with a silvery glow. Sherlock was certain that he had never before seen Molly looking quite so angelic.

The only sound in their room was that of the ocean and their desperate kisses. His body was hovering above hers; she had a leg hooked over one of his. She wanted him again, and he wanted her, but he wouldn't comply until she gave him the answer he so greatly needed.

"Why do you keep saying no?" He murmured this in to her mouth, hardly able to break apart their kiss.

Damn it. He's not going to let up, is he?

She let out a soft huff of air, her breath warm against his lips, "Because I know how you feel about marriage. What you really think of it."

He pulled away ever so slightly, peering down at her, "Would I continue to ask you if my thoughts on it hadn't changed?"

Her mind went blank for a moment, "You really, truly want to marry me?"

His eyes have locked on to hers, "Yes, I do. I already consider you to be mine and I'm quite certain you think of me as yours, but I would rather like to make it official, legal, what have you." He's dropped his head down, suckling at the spot where her neck curves. Her eyelids flutter closed.

Focus. Focus. Focus! Oh damn, that feels so good!

"Sod it. Fine, I'll marry you!"

He lifted his head, his eyes narrowing, "Don't say it like that! You're making it sound like I am forcing you to do something you don't want to." He blinked rapidly, "You do want to spend the rest of your life with me … don't you?"

After all that we've been through, he is still going to doubt me?

She reached up, cupping his face in her hands so that she can pull him down closer to her, "Ask me again Sherlock."

He swallowed, licking his lips before saying, "Marry me?"

"Yes."

With a loud and relieved sigh he dropped his head further down, his mouth meeting hers in a passionate kiss. She slipped her hands to the back of his neck, playing with the curls at his nape. He took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together as he pressed it down into the mattress. Their bodies moved in perfect unison, the room filling with their moans and happy sighs.

Quite sometime later their bodies are slick with sweat, the sheets are a rumpled mess and the duvet is in a heap on the floor. A gust of the cool sea air came rushing into the room. Molly watched as it made Sherlock's curls flutter slightly. Only a few moments before he had slyly slipped a ring onto her finger while he was distracting her with his all too-talented mouth. The diamond glistened in the moonlight. Sitting up she moved until she was straddling his stomach, her legs resting on either side of him. As she leaned forward her hair brushed across his chest. Their eyes are locked on each others, their hearts still beating rather rapidly.

"Are we really doing this?"

He moved his hands up her arms, not stopping until they come to rest on either side of her face. She allowed him to gently pull her downwards until her lips were hovering just above his.

"Yes."

THE END

Ahh me … we have reached the end *sniffle* Thank you all for sticking with this story! Glad you enjoyed it so much! I certainly enjoyed writing it! :D

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